


Drunken New Year

by hqprotectionsquad



Series: Haikyuu!! One Shots [30]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Drunkenness, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, New Year's Eve, New Years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:35:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26263534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hqprotectionsquad/pseuds/hqprotectionsquad
Summary: Y/N can't stand the sight of Atsumu doting on his ex-girlfriend at the New Year's party they were supposed to be attending, together. Not Y/N sitting off to the side while his ex hangs on him for the whole night. After the party, Y/N has a few choice words to say, even though she's drunk.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Reader
Series: Haikyuu!! One Shots [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1702609
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	Drunken New Year

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I am cross-posting my content from tumblr (hqprotectionsquad) to this AO3 account. I hope you all enjoy! If you liked this one shot, please leave a comment or kudos!

“Alright, what are you so mad for?” Atsumu looks to you as you slide into the passenger’s seat of the car. You continue to fold your arms after you’ve buckled your seatbelt, your lips matching the line your arms are in. “Clearly, you’re mad at me, so spill it already. What did I do tonight that was so wrong?”

“Just take us home, Atsumu.”

“Atsumu? Huh,” he scoffs, turning the key. The engine of the car flares into life as all of the lights and gadgets flicker on. Immediately, he turns the dial of the radio volume all the way down. He hasn’t heard his name come out of your mouth in ages. It’s been “babe” for the longest time. “You know, if you’re not going to talk, I’m not bringing us home. I’m not brushing this aside like you want me to.”

You sigh. “You were all over her.”

“Who?” He places his hand on the back of your seat to move the car out of the parking space and while this normally would make you swoon from seeing him in this position, you roll your eyes.

“You know who I’m talking about.” He hums, waiting for you to continue. “Millie,” you say obviously.

Soon enough, he’s coasting down the highway, the only car to be seen in sight. “She was drunk. And so are you, so cut me some slack.”

“It’s New Year’s Eve, everyone’s drunk. So—”

“I’m not because I want to get us home safely," he points out.

"That's even worse! You were all over her and she kept touching you on your big arms and big muscles. And you were sober the whole time and you let me watch it all go down."

"Finally, you're admitting that I'm strong.” His statement comes with a smirk, trying to lighten the debate at hand, but you can’t think of his flirty statements with the same brain at the moment.

"Not my words; Millie's," you grumble. "This frickin' headache is pounding my head and arguing with you doesn't make it any better."

"We don't have to argue, (Y/N). No one's saying we have to. I was only helping her out. You know that she's got some things that she needs to work on—"

You squeeze your eyelids tight against each other. "Atsumu," you enunciate your words as carefully as a drunk person can. "She isn't your responsibility. You two aren't together anymore."

"Millie and I go back to when 'Samu and I started volleyball, that long." The car is smooth and steady on the road, Atsumu never once speeding up because he knows it would only get worse if he tried to race home. "So we aren't dating anymore, but I still care her as a friend."

"Friends don't look at friends the way she looks at you." You aren't purposely trying to pry a reaction out of Atsumu, but you see one when the knuckles on his hand protrude as he tightens his grip on the wheel. "You can't tell me I'm wrong. You even said it yourself at one point: Millie will never be replaced."

"Never be replaced as a friend! Gosh, (Y/N), you're getting on my fuckin’ nerves." Everything he says, he means, even when he says you’re on the last straw. Huh, what a way to bring in a shitty new year. 

“So what, I’m not allowed to be concerned when my boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend is hanging off of him, drunk and trying to kiss him the whole night? Did you even think about me while you were trying to take care of her?” It’s a bit of a stretch, you’ll admit, but seriously, sometimes Atsumu didn’t consider your feelings when doing things. For instance, when he drove a motorcycle for the first time and he didn’t let you know. You paced the living room floor at least a hundred times and he finally came in the house with a helmet propped onto his hip. You pounded your fists against his chest with tears streaming down your eyes. All he could say was “You were thinking about me, sweetheart? Don’t worry so much next time. You’ll give yourself wrinkles.”

In comparison to that, this situation takes the win. He doesn’t want it to be a win.

Atsumu pulls into the next exit. Fortunately, it’s the one he’s meant to get off on, but even if it wasn’t, he would’ve got off to focus on this conversation. The second he finds a parking lot, he directs the car into one of the empty spaces. Of course, the whole lot’s empty; it’s now New Year’s Day, seeing that it’s one in the morning.

He parks and turns off the engine, the light draining from his face. Now, you can only see his silhouette, backlit from the nearby lamppost.

“ _Why do you keep bringing it up?_ You know I love you, so ya don’t need to dig yourself a ditch, unless that’s what you were lookin’ for.”

You mumble apologies underneath your breath, not knowing whether it’s the embarrassing feeling that settles into your bones or the drunken stupor that’s taking over. You finally apologize in the only way you know how to: softly pressing your lips to his cheek, just barely missing the stubble you hate feeling on your skin.

“I’m taking it that you’re either too prideful or too drunk to say you’re sorry, so I’ll just accept your half-hearted apology and be done with it,” he chuckles.

“I’m sorry, Atsumu. I’m a shitty girlfriend.” You frown, and he can’t bear to see your lips drag. “Why’d you kiss me, I just told you I’m a shitty girlfriend.”

“Because you’re not shitty. Why would I be with you if you were shitty? I’m too good to be with someone shitty—okay, ow. I didn’t even fuckin’ finish.” He laces your fingers with his despite his abrasive use of language. “I’m too good to be with someone shitty, but you’re greater than me by so much more. You could never be shitty to me.”

“Aw, babe, you know, you’ve already been too sweet for a year’s worth, and the year’s already started?” You shake your interlaced hands while wiping tears with the back of the other. 

He grimaces, “Please don’t make me take back my words.”


End file.
